


Epilogue

by help_howls_out_now



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Fix-It, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:29:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27598937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/help_howls_out_now/pseuds/help_howls_out_now
Summary: Over a year has passed since Sam and Dean defeated Chuck. They seem to be doing well, but Dean still has a hard time accepting what happened to Cas. Luckily, Jack has one more trick up his sleeve.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 170





	Epilogue

“Sammy! Are those the last ones?” 

“Yeah, I think so!” Sam answered as he made his way over to the Lincoln, carrying the last of the boxes. 

“Dude, you have way too much crap,” Dean huffed as he closed the trunk. 

“It wasn’t that bad. I didn’t even have to rent a truck!”

“Right. Five trips in this thing was a  _ way  _ better idea than one trip in a truck.”

Sam smirked, “I’m glad you agree,” 

Dean shoved him playfully, “Bitch.” 

“Jerk.”

The brothers shared a grin and leaned back on the fully-packed car. Sam was officially moving in with Eileen today. He pretty much lived at her place already, but now he wouldn’t have to return to the bunker every few days to do laundry. Dean was happy for Sam and completely supportive of his decision, but the thought of being in the bunker by himself full-time was daunting.

“You’ll have to get a dog now,” Sam said, echoing his thoughts. 

Dean laughed. “You know, I just might! We could have weekly playdates at the dog park and stop for coffee at one of those hipster places.”

Sam furrowed his brow. “You mean a café?” 

“Yeah! One that let’s people draw on the walls.” 

Sam chuckled and shook his head. There was a long moment of silence as the two were lost in their own thoughts.

“You could start going on dates,” Sam said carefully. “Nothing serious, just to...y’know, get out and have a little fun. Meet people.”

Dean’s smile wavered and his eyes lost a bit of mirth. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah that sounds good.” But they both knew there was no sincerity behind it. 

Sam’s face clouded in concern, “Are you gonna be okay, Dean?” 

Dean huffed and pushed himself off the car. “C’mon man, we’ve talked about this. You’re only gonna be 20 minutes up the road. I’ll be totally fine.” 

“I know,” Sam said quickly. “I know, but this is...kind of weird, right? I mean, we’ve lived together for most of our lives.”

“It’s nothing we won’t get used to,” Dean answered. “It’ll actually be pretty awesome. The minute you drive off, I’m gonna be blaring some  _ Styx  _ and making some burgers. No salad tonight, baby!” He pumped his fist in the air victoriously. 

Sam smiled and shook his head. “I’ll have to shove vegetables down your throat every time I see you, won’t I?” 

“Hey man, that’s on you.” 

Sam laughed and there was another moment of silence. Dean shuffled his feet restlessly and Sam chewed his bottom lip. They were both putting off the next step. 

“Alright,” said Dean abruptly. “You’d better get going. Eileen won’t be happy if she has to help you unload in the dark.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Sam removed the key from his pocket. “You still coming over for dinner on Saturday?”

“I’ve got to get my weekly dose of veggies, right?” 

With that, the two brothers hugged and said their goodbyes. Sam got into the car and took one last, long look at the bunker before he shifted the gear and was on his way. Dean waved and watched the car until it drove out of sight.

Dean couldn’t make complete sense of his emotions. It felt like the end of an era. Mostly, he was happy. Happy that Sam found someone that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Happy that after a lifetime of fighting and making sacrifices, they both finally got to live their lives on their own terms. 

A part of him couldn’t help but worry, though. What if something happened to Sam and Eileen, and Dean wasn’t there to protect them? What if something happened to Eileen or himself, and Sammy lost another person that he loved? 

What if Dean really wasn’t going to be okay by himself? He shook the thought from his mind. 

As he re-entered the bunker, he stopped at the top of the stairs and smiled at the view. After all those years of crappy motel rooms, dingy apartments, and sleepless nights in the car, he never thought he’d get used to having his own place. Now, it really was  _ all his _ .

Dean connected his phone to the radio, hit play, and turned up the volume as loud as it could go. 

_ “Oh Mama, I'm in fear for my life from the long arm of the law…” _

He popped open a beer, sang along, and danced poorly for the better part of an hour. At one point, he took off his shirt and twirled it around like a lasso before throwing it onto the couch. He’d be damned if he was going to sit around and mope! Not today, at least. He managed to cook two burgers in between air guitar solos. Then he cut off the music, flipped the TV over to a  _ Doctor Sexy _ re-run, and made himself comfortable. 

Another hour later, when the d ay’s labors and dancing  started catching up to him, he got up and began to clean his mess. As he passed the table, he stopped and  gently ran a finger over Castiel’s name carved into the wood, just as he had done every night for the past year. 

Dean thought he had gotten used to losing people. But the truth was, there was always work to do; always another battle to fight. That wasn’t the case anymore. Once he and Sam retired from hunting and didn’t have to save the world, grief hit him like a freight train. Grief for Cas, Jack, his mom, his dad, Bobby, everyone and everything that he had lost. He felt like all of his old scars had reopened. 

That was a year ago, and things were better now. There were still days when he couldn’t find the energy to get out of bed, but they were few and far between. Sam had helped him through it all, and Dean had helped Sam through his own trauma in return. They both came out stronger on the other side. The fact that Sam felt comfortable moving out of the bunker proved as much. 

Cas was a different story, though. It took Dean over a month to tell Sam the whole truth of what happened that day. He still remembered every detail of their last conversation. But no matter how much he talked about it, Dean couldn’t think about Cas for too long without feeling like he was drowning. It really pissed him off. All of their memories, even the good ones, were tainted. No amount of crying, praying, or reminiscing dulled the ache he still felt from the loss. When his thoughts strayed to Cas, he usually had to force them elsewhere. His nightly ritual with the table was the most he could do without spiraling. 

He pulled his hand away from the name and took out his phone.  _ Lynyrd Skynyrd _ echoed softly throughout the bunker as the kitchen sink filled with soapy water. Dean sang along quietly. 

_ “I've been trying to make it home _

_ Got to make it before too long _

_ I can’t take this very much longer...” _

Both of his hands were submerged when his cell started ringing. Cursing, he reached for a towel and dried them off quickly. He finally got the phone out of his pocket and read the caller ID.

_ Unknown _ .

That was weird. Only ten people had this number.  _ Damn telemarketers. _

“Hello?” he answered irritably.

Silence.

“HELLO?” he said again with more force.

Another beat. Then, “Hello, Dean.”

Dean dropped the phone. He managed to catch it awkwardly between his arm and his chest, and fumbled to bring it back up to his ear. All the blood had drained from his face.

“Who is this?” he asked. He tried to sound intimidating, but it came out more like a whisper. 

“Dean, it’s-...it’s Cas. I um...I need you to come pick me up.” 

_ This isn’t happening. _

“This isn’t real,” Dean whispered, mostly to himself. 

“It  _ is _ real. I don’t know how I’m back, but I am. And I, uh...don’t exactly know where I am.”

“This isn’t real,” Dean said again through gritted teeth. “I don’t know who you are or what you want. But if you don’t leave us alone, so help me,  _ I will kill you _ . Lucifer, if this is you- ” 

The voice cut him off, “Why would Lucifer be calling you?” 

Dean closed his eyes and tried to slow his heart rate.

“Dean, are you there?” 

“Yeah,” he said evenly, “Okay...here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna tell me where you are. If I get there and you are anyone  _ other _ than Castiel, I will kill you. I’ve killed a lot of things, so you really don’t want to underestimate me.” 

There was a brief pause. 

“Alright,” the voice answered. 

Dean clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palm. “Okay. Now, where are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well isn’t that convenient.” 

“I’m serious,” the voice sounded distressed. “It looks like a barn. But I’m locked in and all of the windows are too high for me to reach.” 

“If you are who you  _ say _ you are, why can’t you just fly here right now?” 

“I can’t. I-...I don’t have my grace.” 

Dean scoffed, “Well that doesn’t sound suspicious at all,” he said sarcastically. “If this is a trap, you’re doing a stand-up job.”

“It’s not a trap, Dean!” The voice hissed, “I’m actually stuck in here, this phone is dying, I can’t feel my grace and I’m trying not to panic!” 

Dean had to swallow the bile in his throat. It sounded  _ just _ like him. He felt the faintest sliver of hope, but he pushed it back down.

“Okay, shut up! Tell me about the barn.”

*****

It didn’t take him long to work out where the caller was located. Dean knew in his gut that it was the same barn where he and Cas had first met. The fact didn’t make him any more hopeful. 

His heart sank when he tried calling Sam for backup and heard his brother’s phone ring in the other room. He texted and called Eileen a dozen times, but they were likely already asleep, and they lived in the opposite direction. Dean was on his own. He didn’t ease his foot off the accelerator for the entire drive. 

He had brought every weapon he could think of - even a piece of wood large enough to draw a banishing sigil on, but just small enough to fit in his pocket. Whoever - or whatever - was waiting for him, he was as ready as he would ever be.

As the Impala’s headlights illuminated the barn, Dean saw that it was almost completely boarded up. There were a few gaps near the top, which must have been the “windows” that the voice had mentioned. They were definitely too high for anything without wings to get through.. He grabbed the bolt cutters from the car and made quick work of the chains that barred the doors. Gun-in-hand, he slowly pushed a door open and cringed at its protesting groan.

Enough moonlight streamed through gaps in the roof to light the center of the barn. For some reason, the first thing he noticed was that there was no trace of the sigils that he, Sam, and Bobby had painted years before. The owners must have thought teenagers trashed the place, and boarded it up for protection. 

He took a few steps inside, one hand on his gun; the other just near his pocket. Blood dripped from the fresh wound on his finger, but he barely registered the pain. His eyes scanned the darkness for any sign of movement. 

“I know you’re in here,” he called threateningly. “Show yourself!” 

At first, nothing happened. Then, a figure walked out of the shadows and into the light. 

Dean felt like his heart stopped beating. Whoever this was, he looked  _ exactly  _ like Cas. He had the blue eyes, the trenchcoat, the crooked tie, the disheveled hair. He stared openly at Dean with an expression of alarm and disbelief. His hands were raised in surrender and he began to walk closer.

“Stop right there!” called Dean. 

The figure halted about ten feet away.

“Who are you?” 

“I’m Castiel,” the man said calmly.

“No, you’re not. Cas has been dead for over a year. You either quit bullshitting me now, or I put a bullet through your head.” 

The man looked stricken. “Over a year…” 

Anger rushed through him. How  _ dare  _ this thing wear Cas’ face and speak with his voice. “You have ten seconds to tell me the truth,” he said darkly.

“It’s me,” the man pleaded. “I don’t know how I can prove it, but it’s me.” 

Dean had a flash of doubt, but his gun remained steady.

“Okay...tell me something that only Cas would know.” 

The man didn’t break eye contact, but his hands fell to his sides. “The first thing I ever said to you was that I ‘gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.’ The last thing I said to you was...that I loved you.”

Dean gasped against his will. Sam was the only other person who knew about that. It was getting harder for him to ignore that sliver of hope. 

“How do I know you don’t just have Cas’ memories?” He was trying to hold onto his resolve.

“You don’t,” the other man said shortly. There was sadness in his eyes. 

The two stared at each other for a long moment, both waiting for the other to make the next move.

Just then, the silence was broken by slow clapping. Dean and the other man fell into defensive stances as they turned towards its source. To Dean’s complete surprise, Meg stepped into the light. 

“Well, that was much more exciting than I anticipated,” she said with a smirk. “Hello, boys.” 

Dean raised his lip in disgust, “Meg.”

She raised a brow, “Not quite, sweety.” 

“It’s The Empty,” the other man said. “It can use the face of anyone It has.” 

“Thank you, Clarence.” She tilted her head. “I think I’ll miss wearing your handsome face, but this one’s not too shabby.”

“What the hell is going on?” Dean asked. He trained his gun on the Meg look-alike.

She glanced at the weapon. “You know that thing won’t work on me, right?”. 

With a flick of her wrist, the gun lurched out of Dean’s hands and went flying into the darkness. He instinctively knew that the sigil in his pocket wouldn’t work. All he could do was stand there, defenseless.

“Relax, Pretty Boy. I’m only here as a messenger.” She made a noise of disgust. “God, when did I stoop so low?”

The other man took a step closer to her. “What are you doing here? And why is Dean here? This wasn’t part of our deal.”

“Our deal is off. Your little Boy-God struck up a new deal with me.”

“Boy-God?” 

“She means Jack,” Dean answered. The man gaped at him. For the first time, Dean allowed himself to believe it really could be Cas.

“Yes, Jack,” The Empty continued. “What an annoying little runt. I thought Chuck was bad.” She turned to Cas, “When you showed up, I was finally able to get some beauty sleep. Then Jacky-boy started popping in and kept trying to convince me to let you out. I told him to fuck off the first hundred times...but he just kept showing up and he _never stopped_ _talking_.” Her eyes narrowed, “I suppose he got that from you.” 

“What kind of deal did he make?” Cas asked impatiently.

Her face broke into a dreamy smile. “He dismantled Purgatory and gave me all the monsters inside. Of course, having all the monsters in the world doesn’t compare to having an Angel like yourself.” She winked. “He drove a hard bargain. It wasn’t until he put your grace on the table that I shook his hand.”

Cas blanched, “My grace?”

“Yeah, I thought he was crazy too. That is, until I found your soul.”

“I...don’t have a soul?”

“Oh, you poor thing,” she said, as if speaking to a child. “I forgot how young you are! Do you know where souls come from, Clarence?

“No. No one does. We just know that only humans have them.” 

“Well, allow me to enlighten you. Souls are...basically made from love. Usually, a baby feels love for its mother and its soul forms and grows from there.” She twisted her face in disgust, “It’s really gross. Chuck was going through a weird phase when he came up with that one.”

“But I don’t have a mother,” said Cas . 

The Empty gave him a level stare, “Do I really have to explain it?” 

Silence. 

She rolled her eyes and chuckled, “Wow. You boys really aren’t the sharpest tools in the tool box, you know?”

Dean just stared, still trying to process everything that was happening. 

“Your soul came into existence sometime after you pulled this one,” she gestured to Dean, “out of Hell. Your grace was more bright and powerful than the little thing, so no one noticed it was there. Even _ I _ didn’t sense it until Jacky-boy made me curious. I still don’t know how he figured it out.” Her head tilted in thought, “That probably explains all the indigestion I’ve been having.” 

Dean found his voice, “Is that why you don’t want him anymore? Because you can’t...digest souls?” 

“That’s part of the reason. Mostly, I just want to go back to sleep, and he’s like a walking alarm clock.”

Dean wasn’t convinced. “Why wouldn’t Jack just tell us this himself? Why send you at all?”

She groaned, “Can you guys shut up with the questions already? Maybe he’s busy doing God-like things! I agreed to explain the details once Pretty Boy showed up, but I didn’t know it would be this much of a headache.” She held a finger up, “Oh, that reminds me. I also have to give you this.”

A small, rolled up piece of paper suddenly appeared in Dean’s hand. After a split second of surprise, he slowly unrolled it to reveal a short note written in clean, black script.

_ “Don’t waste it. -J”  _

Dean stared down at the words.

The Empty carried on, either oblivious or uncaring of his stupor. “You guys can figure it out from here, right? Because I  _ really  _ want to go back to sleep. Hopefully, without any interruptions this time.” She smiled sweetly at Cas, “I wish I could say it’s been fun, but I am very much looking forward to never seeing you again.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Cas deadpanned. 

Her smile only widened. As Dean pocketed the note from  _ J _ , a thick, black substance began to form below The Empty’s feet. He recognized it immediately and he shot a panicked look towards Cas. But Cas merely stared down at the smiling woman - no sign of fear on his face. Within seconds, The Empty was gone and the ground was solid.

He stared at the spot for a long time after that. Dean couldn’t take his eyes off of him. The note in his pocket extinguished any remaining doubt he might have had. After one year, three weeks, and two days, Cas was alive.

Finally, Cas lifted his head and met Dean’s gaze. They stared at each other with wide eyes for a long moment. Dean almost expected that he would wake up in his bed and realize this had all been a dream. But his heart was pounding too hard for it to be anything but real. 

“Cas?” he finally whispered brokenly. 

“Dean,” Cas answered, as if it were a prayer.

Dean’s lip quivered and he felt his eyes fill with tears. He nearly ran to the other man and wrapped his arms around him. Cas didn’t hesitate for a moment, and hugged him back just as tightly. The seconds dragged on, but neither of them broke the embrace. Dean was afraid that Cas would disappear the second he let go. 

When they finally pulled apart, he still kept his hands on Cas’ arms, just below his shoulders. Cas had tears in his eyes that hadn’t spilled over. 

“Are you okay?” Dean asked. 

“I’m fine. Are you?”

He let out a small laugh, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

Cas scanned his face, “Is Sam okay?”

“Yeah Sammy’s fine too. And Jack is-...well...he’s technically God now. You probably figured that out.” Dean grinned, “We beat Chuck.” 

Cas’ face lit up with joy. Dean beamed back at him. He realized how close they were standing, but couldn’t bring himself to care. Abruptly, he remembered something else and his smile dimmed.

“Cas...your grace...”

Cas shook his head, “It doesn’t matter. I much prefer this over sleeping for an eternity. I just-... I can’t believe I have a soul.” He shot Dean an almost awe-struck look. Then, he began to laugh in a way that Dean had never heard from him before. It was as if all the weight in the world had lifted off his shoulders. 

Dean couldn’t help but join in. He was just too relieved to worry about what came next. The two men revelled in their victory, laughing like maniacs and clinging to each other in the darkness of the abandoned barn. 

When they finally stilled, Dean raised his right hand to Cas’ jaw without thinking. Only then did they both stop smiling. Cas ever so slightly tilted his head, his eyes filled with an unreadable emotion. Dean’s first instinct was to pull away, but it was at that moment that he understood Jack’s note.  _ Don’t waste it. Don’t waste this second chance.  _

He rested his gaze on Cas’ lips before meeting his eyes again. Slowly, Dean raised his left hand to cup the other side of his face. 

Cas blinked and let out a breath, “Dean...”

That was all the motivation he needed. He closed the distance between them, and kissed him.

Dean was done wasting time.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second ever SPN fic. Let me know what you think!
> 
> (I don't own the rights to Supernatural or its characters).


End file.
